In a hurry? Read the recaplet for a nutshell description! Finished? Click here to close.
Walt's "everybody wins" plan is basically to make a distribution deal with Declan, which Walt does in the most cock-shovingly way possible, outing himself as both Heisenberg and Gus Fring's killer to the criminal world at large. After unsuccessfully browbeating Jesse to not quit the business, Walt settles in to life with Landry the Doof as his assistant.
Meanwhile, Mike is out, and I mean OUT. Dumps his guns, squares away new safety deposit box accounts for the nine inmates (plus one for sweet Kaylee), rids his house of any incriminating material, and begins life as a boring old man. Just in time, too, since the D.E.A. comes banging down his door with a search warrant. They find nothing, and Hank ends up getting upbraided by Washington for taking too much of an interest in the case. Still, Hank has one more Hail Mary pass, getting Gomez to tail the lawyer Mike used to set up the safety deposit accounts. They hit paydirt, and the lawyer rolls over on Mike.
This news is overheard by Walt in a WILDLY convenient development that takes this whole episode down a notch, I'm afraid. So Walt tips off Mike that the Feds are coming for him, and arrangements are made for Walt to bring Mike his go-bag so he can disappear. But at the hand-off, Walt demands the names of the nine guys (as their payoff accounts have once again been seized, they're all incentivized to rat). Mike stonewalls him and basically unloads on him for ruining the good thing they had going with Fring. He storms off, but Walt chases after him and shoots him in the gut in a hasty and ill-conceived development that's as satisfyingly messy as that eavesdropping scene was frustratingly contrived. Mike escapes in his car and then into some brush, but he's not the Terminator. He doesn't get far. Walt finds him and, after sheepishly realizing he could have gotten the names from Lydia all along, begins to apologize, but Mike shuts him up. He wants to die in peace. And do he does. Farewell, craggy prince.
Want more? The full recap starts right below!Previously: Jesse and Mike decided to get out of the business before any more kids get killed (in Jesse's case) or the DEA catches them (in Mike's case). Walt took the news hard, particularly when they said they intended to sell their shares of the heisted methylamine for $5 mil apiece. That deal went sour, however, when the buyer demanded the whole kit and caboodle, so Mike chained Walter to a radiator and intended to sell the whole tank. Only he underestimated Walt's willingness to burn his wrist through MacGyver-y means, and so he returned to an empty garage. No methylamine, just Walt (with Jesse), saying he has a plan to get everyone what they want.
A great shot from the back of Mike's car shows us three bald heads in silhouette, driving out into the all-too-familiar Desert That Law Forgot, so I guess Mike believed Walt's (and Jesse's) claim to be able to deliver a scenario in which everybody wins. Walt pokes at his poor charred wrist, a succinct reminder of the lengths to which he went to bring about this scenario (or it would have been succinct if we hadn't just seen that very moment in the previouslies). Declan and his cronies are already assembled at the meeting spot, and before they get out of the car, Mike informs Walter that he's on his own, as far as presenting this deal goes.
Walt informs Declan that the methylamine isn't coming, and when Declan turns to Mike to find out what the hell is going on, Walt informs him that "you're dealing with me now." He tells Declan the methylamine is worth more in his hands than in anyone else's; what he needs is distribution. So here's the deal: Declan's organization gives up their cook to sell Walt's product, for a 35% share of the profits. Declan's all, "You're joking." Why would they want Walt? Walt is all too happy to describe how their product is 70% pure, if they're lucky, while his stuff is 99.1% pure, making this akin to "grade school t-ball vs. the New York Yankees" (oh, Walt, aren't the Yankees hated enough as it is?), or "tepid off-brand cola" vs. Classic Coke. Declan's like, okay, Steinbrenner, say I waste you right now, I guess there's no more Coke on the market. Walt: "Do you really want to live in a world without Coca-Cola?" He tosses a bag of the blue stuff on the ground and says he knows their outfit dyes their meth to look like his product; now they can sell "the real thing" (nice commitment to the metaphor there, guys).
Declan says no way he's gonna give up this deal, be Walt's "errand boys," just so some junkies can get a better high. Walt scoffs at the low-level thinking. That better high means the junkies will pay more. The purity of his product means a higher yield -- $130 million of profit that isn't being "pissed away by some substandard cook." Walts says they'd be getting the best meth cook in America, then stops and says the TWO best meth cooks in America (Jesse and Mike share a wary look at this), and with their skills, Declan earn more from that 35% than he ever would on his own. Declan's like, "Okay, why so generous then?" Walt explains that Mike is leaving (he doesn't mention Jesse), so they need a new distribution arm, plus a $5 million "finder's fee" for Mike. Again, no mention of a buyout for Jesse. Walt says he's got 40 pounds of product ready to ship -- "are you ready?" Declan picks up the bag of blue meth: "Who the hell are you?" Walt fixes him with a steely look. "You all know exactly who I am. Say my name." (Oh, Lord, Walt, these Scarface theatrics.) He continues, "I'm the cook. I'm the man who killed Gus Fring." Declan says that's bullshit -- the cartel got Fring. Declan looks to Mike, who shakes his head wearily. Walt, again: "Say my name." Declan finally does: "Heisenberg." Walt: "You're goddamn right."
Your goddamn credits.
So as the Declain-ites drive away, Jesse reminds Walt that, despite the kind words from earlier, he's out too. Walt's like, "I know. We'll talk." Jesse continues, about the $5 million that Walt never actually mentioned just now. Walt impatiently says that, yes, they will work all this out. He just asks for some help getting things up and running in the transition time. He says again, "We'll figure it out."
Back to Vamanos for our three amigos. Mike looks at his two partners and says, "I guess that's it." He offers a pair of parting thoughts: One: as he said before, he'll be handling the legacy costs out of his end (unspoken: so Walt can quit bitching about it), and Two: the DEA will do a sweep of their offices sometime soon, so they need to get the bug out of Hank's office. Walt: "That's it? No thanks for the $5 million? No sorry for chaining to the radiator?" Mike fixes Walt with the look to end all looks, all weariness and hatred and the kind of annoyance you'd have with a five-year-old. "Just get the bug, Walter," he gruffs. Walt goes inside, leaving Mike and Jesse. Mike's like, "I guess this is it for us, too." Jesse doesn't understand -- he's out too. Why do they have to separate? Mike looks at him so kindly it breaks my heart. He even smiles what passes for a smile from Mike. Something he might usually reserve only for Kayle. "Kid," he says, "just look out for yourself." Aw, man, the end of Jesse and Mike! You knew this was coming, but it's still a tough pill to take. Walt looks on from inside with naked envy.
So were you wondering where Walt was hiding all that methylamine? Wonder no longer, as we head to the car wash, where Skyler is anxiously waiting for the fresh batch of Hell to arrive on her doorstep. The place is closed for the day, so Walt comes knocking at the back door. Jesse backs up the truck to where the methylamine tanker sits in the car wash hold. Jesse's all, "Hey, Mrs. White." She shakes her head. This is still heartbreaking, that Skyler only views Jesse as a symptom of Walt's criminal world. No idea that he's the purest soul on the planet. He gets out of the truck and while Walt closes the back gates of the car wash, he nods at the logo on the truck. "Vamonos," he reads, to Skyler, like a kid would to a parent. She just fixes him with a look and says, "I wish." She asks Walt if what's in the tank is what she thinks it is, if he's hiding it from the police ... or from someone worse. He just repeatedly stonewalls her, telling her not to worry about it. All she really wants to know -- all she ever wants to know these days -- is if she should expect armed men to show up any time soon to murder her or her kids, but Walt again tells her to wait in the office. Jesse watches this whispered conversation with concern, and as Skyler walks nervously down the garage to the offices, she looks back and they kind of stare at each other. There's a connection to be made there, I know there is. I'm not sure what they could even do to help one another -- much less Walt -- but I desperately want Jesse and Skyler to compare notes.
Elsewhere, remember that attorney who smuggled Mike into the prison so he could talk down one of his nine chatty jailbirds? His name is Dan Wachsberger, and he's on a trip to the bank, making small talk with Dorothy at the desk and bringing her some "bacon banana cookies" that sound both terrifying and delicious at the same time. She leads him and his wheelie suitcase down to the safety deposit box room. Inside, camera keeps pushing him out of frame, and I keep expecting this poor lady to get shot or something. It's a masterful editing job. She opens the usual boxes for him -- she almost knows them from memory now -- but he says he'll be using one more this week. Once she's gone (miraculously having not been shot), he gets to work: opening the boxes, unloading the contents of the suitcase -- stacks and stacks of cash -- into them, all while brassy "Catch Me If You Can" music plays. Oh look! It's the welcome return of the patented Breaking Bad POV shot! This time, we get the view from Dan's wrist. Valuable! Anyway, the last box, the extra one, is about ten times the size of the other ones, and Dan has filled it to the brim, topping it off with an envelope that reads, "To Kaylee on her 18th birthday."
Dan then returns to the car where Mike waits. "Young Kaylee is gonna need a second safety deposit box if you decide to leave one more dollar to her," Dan says. Mike smiles -- again with the smiling! This one's nearly a chuckle! As for the rest of the money, Dan reports that the other boxes were empty, i.e. the families of the nine have been dutifully picking up their payments. Mike asks if anybody has complained about wanting it all at once, but Dan says they all know the score. "I guess this is it for a while, huh?" Dan says, as he assures Mike the families will keep getting their deliveries.
After that, we see Mike listening in on Hank's wiretap in the middle of nowhere. Hank making donation calls for some Police Benevolent Fun Fun or some such. I love how the show has been so economical in advancing the entire subplot of Hank's dissatisfaction with his new job through snippets from Mike's surveillance. The Ehrmantraut warrant just came in, says Gomie; they'll be there in two-three hours. "Make it two," says Hank. They want to nail that SOB. That's all Mike needs to hear. He closes up the laptop, walks it over to a nearby well, and drops it in, followed by a good half-dozen assault rifles, followed by God knows how many handguns, all down the well. When the man says he's out, he is OUT. thing we see, Mike is loading a packed leather duffel into the spare tire compartment in the trunk of a car. The car is parked in an airport parking lot, far from the prying eyes of anyone. Mike hides the keys to the car in a girder nearby, and then he hails a cab and is outta there. So he's out, but he's holding onto an escape route just in case. Sensible plan from a sensible guy.
With all this squared away, Mike has time to get home and almost pour an entire cup of coffee before the Feds are pounding at his door with a search warrant. "Hold your horses," he says as he gets to the door. The cops come in with guns drawn, and behind them, Hank enters, waving the search warrant, shit-eating grim on his face, wondering how that restraining order is working out for Mike. See, as much as I resist the pull that modern antihero TV has to side with the bad guys, and as much as I genuinely like Hank, how can I not hate him a bit when he's being such a turd to Mike? After a cutesy cut to Mike watching a cops-'n'-robbers movie on TV while the police ransack his house, we see they've found nothing. Now who gets to smirk? (Mike doesn't, but he could.)
Walt is back in the garage, futzing with some equipment. Jesse arrives, "just in time to get started," according to Walt, who is forcibly amiable as he starts rambling requests to Jesse to prep the materials, like they're going to just do another cook. Jesse asks if they can talk for a second, though. Walt's all "Sure thing, Sport!" But before Jesse can begin, Walt suggests a topic: "Doubling down." It's an odd strategy for someone who knows that Jesse wants out. I guess the idea here is that Walt wants to bowl Jesse over with all the opportunities they have to succeed with this new deal of theirs, but he has to know Jesse has never been in the Empire Business like he has. Walt offers Jesse an expanded role -- a separate lab. A cook of his very own. A spinoff series set at Schrute Farm! "You deserve it," he says. "You're every bit as good as me," he lies. Not that Jesse isn't -- he's probably not, but he could be. The point is, ain't no way Walt thinks that's true. But he's in hardcore manipulation mode. To Jesse's credit, he's looking at Walt with pure suspicion. Nothing has changed, he says. He just wants to get his money and get out. Walt tries to sell the idea of being the BEST at something -- how can he throw that away? To do what, Walt asks, getting more forceful. Jesse doesn't have the answers, of course, so Walt pounces. It's shocking how vicious he gets so quick. He asks Jesse what he's got in his life right now -- nothing but video games and GoKarts, right? (Hey, low blow with the GoKarts -- that was a very difficult time for Jesse!) How soon before he starts using again? Walt even has to hang his head momentarily for playing that card.
Walt returns to the dead boy in the desert. He knows how upset Jesse is -- so is he. "Are you?" Jesse asks, recalling last week's jaunty work whistle. [Note: For those of you playing at home, it turns out the name of the song he was whistling is actually called "Lily of the Valley," not that Jesse would ever figure that out, but just a note of how great Vince Gilligan is. -- Rachel.] "Really?" Walt acts offended that he could even ask such a question. It's an act of blowsy indignation we haven't seen since Blanche Devereaux. Walt asks if he should curl himself up in a ball or lock himself in a room and get high (there it is again) to prove that the kid's death tears him up? Is he supposed to just die with him? He slickly nudges the subject sideways: "It makes me sick that it happened, just like everyone else who died in our wake." Ah ha! "People who we've killed. Gale ... and the rest." Yes, Gale ... and the rest. You remember Gale -- Jesse killed him. You remember "the rest," right? Ah, not important. Walt is so efficient at using language to manipulate, and his rhetorical choices are pretty diabolical here. To his credit, Jesse punches back. "Just because I don't want to cook meth anymore means I'm lying down?" How many more people have to die? Walt repeats his preposterous promise that nobody else will ever have to die now that they're in charge. "You keep saying that, and it's bullshit every time!" Jesse says it again: he's done. "Give me my money and you and I... we're done." Walt smirks. Why the money? Why does he want it? Jesse's like, "Because it's mine?" But Walt wonders why Jesse would want $5 million worth of blood money, now that he's so high and mighty.
See, here's the thing: of all the things that piss Walter White off on a daily basis, one of the big ones lately is that suddenly Jesse is the noble one. Jesse has managed to develop a conscience just as Walt has slowly broken his own conscience down. Walt used to be able to comfort himself with the knowledge that he's wasn't as degenerate as white-trash, blaccent-spouting, baggy-pant-wearing Jesse, and now that Jesse is clearly the more mature of the both of them right now, Walt wants to put him in his place.
So again he says that this money is tainted, and if Jesse wants out of the business so bad, he shouldn't want the money either. He tries to get Jesse to admit he wants the money just as much as he does. "And it's not wrong to want it." Bringing Jesse back down to his level. Or at least trying to. Rather than being seduced, Jesse is repulsed. He gives a big ol' "whatever" to the money, and he walks anyway. He walks away with Walt screaming after him that he gets NOTHING. Walt screaming alone with his methylamine for company.
After the break, we return to the drudgery of a video conference budget meeting. Hank busies himself looking at surveillance photos of Mike. It seems like he spots something in a shot of Mike at the diner, but he's interrupted by Director Ramey on the video screen, who clears the room. He's all, "You know nobody wants you to succeed more than I do, and oh, why don't I just casually remind you how I stuck my neck out for you to get you this job in the first place, so now that I've got you where I want you, emotionally speaking, how about you cut it out with this Fring thing, because you're making the both of us look like assholes, huh?" Hank protests, says the blue meth is out there and Ehrmantraut is involved. His boss is like, "Yeah, probably, but it's one case out of thousands and you can't play favorites just because it used to be yours." He tells Hank the surveillance budget on Mike is now zero, full stop. Hank is crestfallen and defeated. After Ramey disconnects, Gomez gingerly approaches and asks what happened. Hank relays the sad news that the tail on Mike is off. Gomie says it's just as well, as Mike doesn't even look like he's hiding anything anymore. Just living a "boring old man life." Hank asks about the nine men in jail, and Gomie confirms that none of them are talking, despite incentives, which tells Hank that somebody must be paying them off. He notes that they're all represented by the same attorney: Dan Wachsberger. Maybe that's their in? Gomie is wary about Hank setting up a tail on the lawyer just after Ramey slapped his wrist, but Hank's all "He only said we couldn't follow Ehrmantraut. Do it." He'll have that white whale yet.
At the Vamonos house, Walt suits up for a cook. He's joined, not too surprisingly, by Dumb Landry the Kid-Killer. Any port in a storm, I guess. Walt clicks back into teacher mode as he promises Landry he's going to ease him into this as they go along. Did he take even basic chemistry in high school? Landry: "Uh duhhhhhhh no." Walt: "As we go, I'll be as detailed as possible without being overwhelming." Not sure that's going to be possible, Walt, as that sentence already seems to have confused our young Landry. Doesn't need him to be Antoine Lavoisier, just his full effort and attention. While Landry wonders why some player for the Quebec Nordiques in the '70s applies to meth cooking, Walt just says if he listens and applies himself, they'll have a fighting chance.
Montage! Meth montage! We know it well. Hey there, trash can full of aluminum shavings! What's up, counterintuitive jazzy music? Looking good, hypnotic blue goo! Walt instructs as he goes, and things seem to be working okay. During a break, Walt sips a beverage and watches a Sham-Wow infomercial while, in the corner, Landry studies the notes he made on his sad little memo pad. Afterwards, Landry tells Walt that this seems "complicated. It's going to take me a few more times to get a grasp on it." Walt rolls his eyes and is all, "Yeah, a few more times." I love when Teacher Walt runs up into Unappreciated Genius Walt. Landry sheepishly asks if he did all right, and Walt says he did fine. He applied himself, which is all he can ask (he fails to add "and you didn't get all haughty about killing kids, so there's that too"). He says now all that's left is to talk money, but Landry's like, "We can talk money once I get this right." That's an oddly high work ethic you got there, kid. Why does it make me not trust you?
Elsewhere, as soon as Dan Wachsberger gets to the bank and Dorothy isn't making any small talk about banana bacon cookies, you know something is up. Too bad he doesn't notice. She leads him back to the deposit-box room with barely a word, and once he's there, the camera once again does that thing where the other person in the room is out of frame. This time, the suspense pays off -- as soon as Dan fills up the first tray, we cut to the doorway, where Gomez and two agents stand. Dan sees them and can only muster a shocked, "Hey." At this, Gomez's face defines "shit-eating grin" as he says "Hey" right back. Fuckin' cops! (Sorry, I'm backsliding.) [Note: How could you, Dorothy! He gave you cake pops! With faces!]
At home, Skyler sits at the dinner table and eats what appears to be a microwave dinner all alone. She put her little tray on a proper dinner plate, though, so there's that. Offscreen, we hear the telltale beep of the microwave, so that must be Walt. He sits down, pulls the plastic off his own tray, and starts eating (you gotta stir that that first, Walt!). He starts to talk about the new guy he's working with, and at that, Skyler slowly folds her napkin, takes her Big Carl-sized wine glass, and walks out of the room without saying a word. Her microwave tray remains on the table. No doubt Walt sees having to throw his wife's trash away to be an unforgivable insult.
Cut to Walt the day in Hank's office, once again breaking down into tears over his crumbling marriage. Hank is still understanding, but now it's kind of awkward for him. Remember how last time he fled the room when the tears started? Looks like Walt's using that discomfort to his advantage yet again. He "casually" asks if Hank could maybe get him some coffee, and Hank leaps at the chance, which of course gives Walt the opportunity to remove the bugs he planted weeks ago. Hank returns, but he's pulled aside by Gomez, just outside his office door. Gomie has great news: Wachsberger folded under the pressure and has agreed to roll over on Mike -- I guess since he's not officially Mike's lawyer, no privilege applies? Anyway, when Hank says "He's willing to give us Ehrmantraut," Walt delivers what I'm going to call a Dry Spit-Take. It's that dramatic as he turns around and bugs his eyes out. Also, how INCREDIBLY CONVENIENT that Walt was in the one place in the universe he had to be to overhear this information. As Hank and Gomie high-five (dorks), Walt's eyes dart around. He needs a plan, fast.
After the break, Mike's in the park, doing his crossword puzzle and watching Kaylee on the swings, when he gets a call from Dan asking him if he can talk about a small situation with the money. He wants to talk in person, and he wants to talk now. He gets an unguarded Mike to tell him he's at the park in Palomina, and then is super squirrelly as he's like, "Yeah, yeah that'll work!" Fuckin' rat lawyers. Mike's gears are already turning -- you get the feeling he'd have figured this one out anyway -- but a phone call from Walt immediately thereafter spells it out: somebody flipped, and the D.E.A. is coming for him NOW. Mike stands up in time to see a cop car pulls up to the other side of the park. He starts to call out to Kaylee but realizes his can't risk it. So he hides behind a tree, watches another cop car pull up, and weighs his options. Is this how things end with his beloved granddaughter? He leaves her abandoned on the swingset and goes into hiding forever? I guess it's better than her having to watch him get hauled in by the cops. All these thoughts are scrolling down Mike's face as he makes the decision.
Cut to Better Call Saul, where our Mr. Goodman is soapboxing about that clown Wachsberger and how they should always consult him before hiring outside counsel. Walt waves him off and gets him back on track: what can they do? Saul's like, "Um, pray he gets away?" Because if the D.E.A. gets him, it's over. Jesse is adamant that Mike would never flip, but Saul has his doubts. This is, after all, the second time in as many months that the Feds have confiscated his bankroll. Man, I never thought of that. Two nest-eggs for Kaylee, gone. What's it like to lose your life's work twice? (I guess that's what Walt was thinking when Mike was going to sell the methylamine. Okay, show, way to be really subtle with your parallels. I am impressed.) Jesse again says Mike would never flip, but Walt is absolutely positive that, with the money dried up, his nine guys will. Yeah, that is definitely the bigger worry now. The phone in Saul's desk buzzes (Saul retrieves it from a drawer full of phones, which is such a great shady-lawyer touch), and it's Mike. (Saul: "I got you on the phone with the Brain Trust." Mike: "The what?) He got away, but he's hiding out in the middle of nowhere and can't access his getaway bag. Jesse offers to bring it to him, but Mike gallantly says no way. He pays Saul to take this kind of risk, so risk it Saul will. Saul chimes in that with Mike on the run, his attorney -- the one who so schooled the D.E.A. last week -- will most certainly be under watch as well. Jesse again volunteers, and Mike again refuses. He already spared one child today; now he's going to spare the other. Walt finally volunteers to retrieve the bag.
Cut to Walt in the airport lot, getting the keys from the girder, getting the bag from the tire well. He opens the bag and we see there's some cash, a passport, and lying on top of it all, a holstered gun. Uh oh. Walt zips the bag closed (POV shot from inside the bag!).
Mike stands alone, tossing stones into a desert creek, maybe wondering how just a few days ago he thought he'd made that all-too-rare clean retirement, when he hears Walt pulls up to the clearing. They stand about ten feet apart from each other -- classic duel positions -- and Walt has the bag in his hand. But before he'll deliver it, he wants the names of the nine guys. I think at this point even Mike knows that the only thing to be done about the nine is to have them killed, but it's Walter, and Mike hates him, so he stonewalls. The only thing left to do is leave town, he says, which draws a scoff from Walt, who's all, "Some of us have family and people who depend on us." Kudos to Mike for not showing even a little bit how sharp that particular dagger felt going in. Surely he had to flash on little Kaylee's face when Walt said that. Anyway, Mike approaches Walt (who totally flinches) and calmly takes the bag. Of all the things Mike probably wants to say to Walt, he settles on simply, "Good-bye." But Walt is seething. "You're welcome!" he spits, and demands the names of the nine again. This sparks a snarling, spitting war of words between the two: Walt sneering about how Mike got caught, while Mike goes off on a rant about how they had a great set-up under Fring until Walt and his stupid pride and ego had to blow it all up because he couldn't stand being anyone's subordinate. "If you'd done your job and known your place, we'd all be fine right now," Mike yells, then stomps off to his car, leaving Walter White behind him forever.
Unfortunately, behind you is exactly where you don't want Walter White to be. Walt stomps out of frame towards his car... then comes stomping right back, and even the most elementary of viewers knows what he's coming with. Back in Mike's car, he checks the bag and sees that the holster is there, but the gun is gone. By the time he realizes, it's too late, as Walt runs up to the driver's side window and fires a bullet into Mike. Not sure where it hit, but Mike's able to drive off... if only for a moment. The car careens into some bushes and stops. Walt chases it down, but when he gets there, Mike's gone. Oh my god! He's like some non-giving-up school guy! Sadly, no, he's just a guy. An old guy, at that. An old guy with a bullet in his torso.
Walt follows down to the creek, where Mike has perched himself on a rock, looking out at the water in a daze, barely conscious. You expect Walter to coldly finish the job, take out his longtime nemesis. But he's actually... regretful? Apologetic? He takes the gun from Mike's catatonic hand and says, genuinely sorry: "I just realized that Lydia has the names. I can get them from her. I'm sorry, Mike. This whole thing could have been avoided." It's a good thing that Mike can die knowing that his every ugly thought about Walter -- that he's a hotheaded amateur who isn't half as clever the master criminal as he thinks he is -- is completely true. I love these moments where the show allows Walt to be less than Scarface again. Mike tells him to shut the fuck up and let him die in peace. And so, on that rock, staring out at that creek, he does. "[Soft Thud]," the captions say as Mike falls off the rock. I had a feeling we'd get to this point before this set of eight episodes was over, not that I'm happy about it. Most horrifying of all: Lydia outlived Mike. How to even process that?
Joe R will be collecting money for the Kaylee Ehrmantraut Foundation for the foreseeable future. Shoot him a dollar, huh? He can be reached for lavish praise and nothing but at joseph.reid21@gmail.com.